Thirteen
by Indigo-Typhoon
Summary: Finally, Bredan Birch gets a chance to face his friend and mentor, Steven Stone. Set in Emerald, based on the idea that May is Norman's daughter and chose Torchic, so Brendan would be Birch's son and choose Mudkip. Shonen-ai. Advancechampionshipping.


Thirteen

My breath came out in short, sharp puffs. Soaked with sweat and the steady persistent drizzle that had monitored our combat, I struggled to fix my eyes on my target. His smile was triumphant, confident that I was too exhausted to evade him much longer. Inhaling deeply, I called out my command as loud as I could:

"Muddy Water!" His smirk faded as the attack, made all the more powerful by the ability torrent, landed a critical hit on his Aggron.

"Aggron!" He cried out in concern, for a brief second the elation of victory coursed throughout my fading consciousness. Then the massive Pokémon reared up, roaring out it's defiance to the weakness that _had_ to be affecting it by now.

"Solar Beam!" He yelled, confidence returned now that his comrade had proved fine.

My face remained set and determined, while inside my mind I panicked. The Solar Beam would do huge amounts of damage to my Swampert, the first Pokémon I got, the last Pokémon I had left for this fight. I had to finish this before it hit. Swampert was too tired to dodge.

As I decided on my strategy, my last chance at victory, I felt a momentary light-headedness and sunk slightly lower in my stance as my knees threatened to give way. With a surge of irritation at the wooziness, that was threatening my chance at beating the trainer who had taught me so much. "EARTHQUAKE!" I called, as loudly as I could; desperately praying that the enormous stamina that Swampert and I had spent so many hours building wouldn't run out just yet.

I caught sight of his eyes as I called that. Barely a shade darker than his slate-coloured hair, I'd always found them somewhat hypnotic, even mesmerising. Seeing the flash of apprehension, the knowledge that he was about to be beaten, I felt a sudden, powerful, compelling urge to call off the attack.

Shaking the crazy thoughts out of my head, doubtlessly brought on by the fatigue that was plaguing me, yet must be far more intense for my Pokémon, I managed to focus as the powerful attack finally, truly, knocked out the final Pokémon of the former champion.

"Yes! Swampert, we did it!" I exclaimed, beaming and leaping into the air.

I landed perfectly. I should have been fine. I was tired, but triumphant. I had won. I was about to head into Fallabor for the Pokémon centre, to get my team healed and have a good night's rest.

Instead my legs gave way beneath me. The last thing I heard was an alarmed cry from my Swampert. The last thing I saw was worried eyes, beautiful silver, almost tinted with a blue-green, locking onto me as their owner darted forward, trying to catch me before I hit the ground.

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At first I didn't realise I was awake. It was pitch black. Then I heard the soft muttering, as a spark flared suddenly. I watched sleepily for the first few minutes as the flames flickered into life. They somehow looked soft and gentle, like the soothing voice I could hear, a voice I vaguely recognised, and the motion as I was moved closer to the fire.

I must have slept again, because by the time I next opened my eyes, daylight was streaming into what I know recognised as a cave in Meteor Falls. I sat up, warily; pleased to notice Swampert curled up a few metres away. I flinched, and prepared to call Swampert to attack, as a shadow fell over me however a glance upward told me my fear was misplaced. Steven Stone was stood in the doorway, staring down at me with a smile.

"You're awake." He said with a smile, crouching down beside me and lifting a hand to tilt my face so that I was looking him in the eye.

"How do you feel?" His voice was low and gentle, betraying none of the passionate fury that was withheld in the composure of his battling. Unexpectedly, I didn't know what to say to him. My heart rate had inexplicably increased and I felt both an irrational urge to flee and an absurd impulse to hug him.

"..." I saw worry replace the glitter that lit his silver eyes when he was pleased about something.

"I-I'm fine. R-Really..." I stammered feeling my face grow warm. For some reason, far from being reassured, first understanding, then joy and finally horror dawned in his eyes as he backed away from me fast.

"Well. That's good. You rest a little longer; I'll go into town to get some supplies." His tone was cold and he turned his back on me, walking away.

"W-wait!" I yelped, puzzled by his attitude and ashamed of the illogical panic set in as he tried to leave.

He stopped and turned as I scrambled to feet and darted forward. Or at least, tried to. After lying down for so long, the sudden movement, on top of the confusing emotions clashing in my head, made me dizzy, and once again I felt the world spin as I collapsed.

This time, I was neither unconscious nor on the floor. The reason for the former of these was: although I wasn't up to running around, I wasn't weak enough to faint again. The reason for the latter was, being closer this time, Steven had successfully caught me.

"Brendan! Are you ok?" He fretted, lifting me clear of the ground and holding me against him to provide support.

For a few moments I couldn't speak, as finally I managed to work out what this was all about. It took me long enough, but I finally knew why I'd been so desperate to defeat him. Why I cared about it more than getting all the gym badges, more than defeating the Elite Four, more than earning entry to the Battle Frontier. Why I couldn't stand him treating me like a kid.

"Brendan?" His tone was anxious, but cautious. He knew how I felt. And it made him nervous. For some reason, that made me angry.

"I'm fine!" I snapped, trying to pull away from him.

"Careful." He warned, holding tight so I couldn't get free, "You might still be a little light-headed."

"I said I'm fine!" I spat, ashamed of my immature way of handling thins, still angry at him for rejecting my feelings before I even worked out what they were. I writhed futilely, then resorted to glaring up at him.

He froze as I met his eyes. Normally I can practically read his mind through his face but right then, I didn't have a clue.

"Well..." I mumbled, trying to sound defiant but feeling my spirits sink as I no longer had rage fuelling me. I wanted to look away, but his gaze had me ensnared, fiercely intense. I identified it as the same expression he got when he was faced with a difficult situation. I wondered what he was thinking of.

"Brendan. You're only thirteen. I'm twenty-three." I had no trouble staring him down now. Under the strength of my disbelief and indignation he actually squirmed uncomfortably. I let him do that for a while, before asking him:

"Is _that_ it?"

"Yes. Brendan, it matters. We couldn't..." He was cut short as I took advantage of him supporting my weight and not paying attention to what I was _doing_ to stretch up and kiss him.

For a few short moments, long enough for me to give up and draw back; he was unresponsive. Then as I pulled away, I released some kind of flood gate.

For at least half an hour, neither of us cared about any of the arguments people would have thrown at us. We were ten years apart. We were both male. The only character trait we shared was being stubborn and even then Steven being quietly stubborn, whereas I make a loud fuss. We just didn't care.

By the time it was over I was breathless and trembling from exhilaration. Steven seemed more composed, but I could see from the sparkly quality his irises had adopted that he felt much the same.

Reaching over to where I had flopped down after I finally devoted my mouth's full attention to breathing once again, he pulled me over onto his lap, gently ruffling my hair in affection.

"You do realise that I may be arrested for having a relationship with someone your age? Assuming Professor Birch doesn't kill me personally?" His words were worrying but I could see the amusement in his eyes, so I knew he was teasing me.

"Nah, Dad'll be fine about it. So long as we don't go too far before I'm old enough."

"I had no intention of doing so. You're thirteen." I laughed at him then, snuggling as close as I could get, gratified by the way he tightened his embrace as I did so.

"What about the question of... My gender."

"Dad thought I was gay anyway. He gave this big lecture about not being frightened if I found myself having unusual feelings towards my male friends, and how him and Mom loved me anyway."

"..."

"What?"

"Are all of your family incredibly blunt?"


End file.
